Ice Cream and Coding
by fiction over reality
Summary: AU non-magical Drarry slash story. University life where Harry and Ron are roommates, studying game design, and Hermione lives on campus, studying information systems. They're 20. Harry doesn't know he's gay until he finds Draco, who turns out to be his algorithms tutor and teaches him coding.


He shrugged his shoulder bag off and looked in the mirror as it slid to the ground. The mirror in the dining area wasn't completely flat and so his reflection was slightly thinner than he was, its features marginally more stretched out, and overall a more interesting Harry than he himself could ever hope to be. His wavy neck-length hair that had finally fallen into his eyes one too many times was tied off into a small pony tail and his thick-rimmed dark purple glasses hid his eyebrows, which he wasn't too fond of, quite well. He thought that the glasses made his nose look too big, but contacts were simply out of the question; they were too much work.

He lifted his shirt to look at his stomach. Even in this mirror where everything became thinner he could still see the fat in his waist and gut. Why was it so hard to quit ice cream? Pulling it back down, he looked back at his face and scrunched his nose at the oiliness of it. He grabbed his face wash from the bedroom he shared with Ron and went to wash the sun screen off his face.

He heard the front door bang shut and knew Ron had finally managed to lock the gate. It was always a struggle and they took turns locking it. It was in bad need of greasing and groaned and moaned every inch it moved, if it moved at all. They even tried reasoning and bargaining with it.

"The damn bird is at it again," Ron called from the entry way. "I especially love how it goes an octave higher every time it screeches."

"It's having an orgasm," Harry joked, turning the tap off. "Leave it be."

"Why does it have to do it right outside our bedroom, though?" Ron complained. "More importantly, why don't we have soundproof windows?"

"It's just a rental," Harry reminded him. "Another few months and we'll be outta here."

"Gone like the wind," Ron muttered.

It was the second apartment unit they'd lived in together since university had started. It could be called an improvement. Though improvement was kind of a stretch, Harry thought, as he glanced down at the water trapped in the clogged bathroom sink. The state of the house was a very good representation of the mess their lives were, he supposed. Though it was far better than living at his uncle's, and so he wasn't complaining. Living the student life was a dream. Cold showers and all included.

"Spicy or chicken noodles?" Ron asked, having moved to the kitchen. Harry stepped out of the bathroom, taking the face wash back to their room. Living with housemates meant keeping everything inside their bedroom and that wasn't so different from living at his uncle's, but he still occasionally forgot things outside. That was still better than Ron who forgot to turn off lights or close doors, though.

"One spicy, one chicken," Harry replied.

"The usual, then," Ron acknowledged as he struggled with the plastic packets. Harry went over and grabbed a pot to fill with water.

"Any cabbage left?" He asked Ron hopefully.

"I think so. Check the fridge," Ron said, finally having opened the bag of noodles. "Don't we ever get tired of eating the same thing?"

"Tradition is a thing of beauty," Harry replied with his head in the fridge. "Also we're running low on money."

Most of their money came from doing other people's assignments or finding freelancing jobs online, but during their own midterms and assignment submission times they didn't have much time to do either so a diet of cheap noodles and vegetables was what they lived on. However, Ron still munched on all the chocolate and nuts he could find despite the money problems. Harry couldn't understand how he could bear to not worry about all the break outs. He couldn't judge though. For a twenty year old, his own ice cream addiction was just as bad.

During their richer times, they used their oven to bake. They'd experiment with cookies, cupcakes, and even made cakes for their friends' birthdays. They usually turned out good, but the oven was a strong one and figuring out the time and temperature to bake with was tricky. Still, it was a hobby they both enjoyed. Their friends joked and called them a married couple sometimes, but they usually shut up when they had a box of cookies thrust into their hands.

They had started sharing a room together after Ron missed one of his final exams, thinking it was the day after it actually was. He was always showing up to classes late too, finding it hard to wake up on time. Harry vowed to be his alarm clock and to save money they became roommates. In the first house they took a small room, with a window that opened to the inside of the building and got no sunlight. It was good because it was a ten-minute walking distance from their university and they could come back between classes and nap. It was bad because they napped all the time and got no studying done. After their six month contract was up they moved, having too many neighbours that partied until the early hours of the morning with loud music that shook their entire room.

This house was quieter. They were in the middle room this time, with windows that opened to the park outside and got plenty of sunlight. Their walls were light purple, their bed sheet orange, their shelves pink, their wardrobe dark brown. It was an eye sore, but it was home. They were both good at compromise and living together worked better than well. They shared grocery money, cooked together, slept on a queen sized bed together and even though Ron kicked in his sleep Harry was a heavy sleeper so it worked out alright. They were in the same course and studied together, grouped together for assignments, even chose new friends together. They knew each other's bad habits and secrets, knew what to do to cheer the other one up, would go out walking at all hours of the night when they couldn't sleep, and would procrastinate together watching series or anime.

They were perfect best friends and no matter how shitty the house they lived in was, they both knew that it was alright because what mattered most was their friendship.

"Is it ready yet?" Ron looked over Harry's shoulder into the boiling pot. "I'm starved."

"Give it another five minutes," Harry replied, stirring dutifully.

"But the cabbages will be gross and soggy by then," Ron groaned.

"Fine. Grab the bowls," Harry gave in. His own stomach was growling.

"Early morning classes are the worst," Ron commented, handing a bowl to Harry.

"If you only woke up early enough to eat breakfast, we wouldn't be having this problem," Harry reminded him.

"You wake up early and eat breakfast. Are you telling me you're not dying for some food right now?" Ron poked Harry in the ribs, moving to put food into his own bowl.

"Okay, okay, I'm starved too," Harry admitted. "Plus I like being the first to shower in the morning. I get ALL the hot water."

"Do you magically install the water boiler every morning and then hide it away by the time I wake up?" Run looked ashen. "Where is this hot water coming from?"

"I wish," Harry sang. "If only there was magic."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Our life wouldn't be such a pain, then."

Harry nodded and spooned noodles and soup into his bowl. Ron had taken most of the cabbages, and he had to fish in the soup for the little that there was left. They sat at their small dining table and ate the noodles hot, burning their mouths and not caring. It was a small house, but a family house and comfortable. There were sofas everywhere and each wall was painted a different shade of orange. The big balcony opened to the park outside and there weren't as many bugs sharing their living space. It was a very clean house; they all shared chores like a family. Ron was in charge of cleaning the bathroom, Harry in taking out the trash. He was kind of bad at his chore, even though it was the simplest. It was hard to remember to take out the trash, especially since he had to walk down two floors and to the end of the street to dispose of it. It usually sat there for days, becoming overly full and heavy. Usually he had to be reminded by their housemate, which was the person whose aunt owned the house they were all living in, so it was a bit embarrassing to be scolded by him about remembering the only chore he had.

He did all kinds of chores when he stayed at his uncle's, but living in the first house with Ron had undone all his years of working. Their first house used to be messy and dirty all the time, only getting clean when one of the housemates got fed up and decided to clean the whole house out. It usually was a whole day commitment, and only happened once every month. The chore that he did like was washing the dishes, and he would wash any and all dirty dishes in the sink even if they weren't his. Ron was fonder of doing laundry, and so it was up to him to announce the laundry day and throw the clothes into the washing machine. Harry still didn't have the faintest idea of how to work the machine; he hadn't touched it in the five months that they'd been living here.

They managed to finish their noodles and drink the soup, burning their mouths even more, and Harry went off to wash their bowls. Ron went to make himself hot chocolate, and all the while they argued about answers on their midterm paper. It was funny how even though they usually got different questions right, they mostly ended up with the same results. It was only during their final exams that Harry would do better than Ron and get a higher overall mark for the semester.

Hermione always believed that they cheated in exams because they would get the same midterm results, and only by showing her the papers were they able to finally convince her otherwise. It was easy to cheat; almost everyone did, but be it laziness or actual integrity, Ron and Harry never had. They just didn't see the point of it. Exams weren't that important. At least, not to them. Hermione would disappear for weeks before exams and they wouldn't hear of her until they were over. She was quite serious when it came to scoring marks.

She had somehow become the final piece, making their duo friendship a trio, but quite sadly did not live with them. She stayed at the university's girls' hostel, which was a no-boy allowed space, and a five minute walk from the university. It was cheap and close to classes, and Hermione refused to live far from campus. They had her on Skype when their Wi-Fi speed actually allowed it. All in all, Harry couldn't have been luckier in the friends department.

The romance department, now that was debatable. He couldn't stay in a relationship for any longer than a couple of months. His extensive collection of sad songs vouched for that. It was still better than Ron, who had never been in a relationship in his entire life, or Hermione, whose boyfriends always turned out to be completely nuts. But then there were his other friends who were in four-year relationships or already getting married at age 19 and it made him want to have something like that so badly. What made things harder was how their course was filled with 95% guys. Girls weren't that interested in studying Game Design, apparently. Hermione was having the time of her life, though. Her course, Information Systems, was mainly a guy-concentrated course too.

Harry had thought of having campaigns to make girls study computers many times. It was a real problem. It would help if he'd been gay. The gayest he'd ever gotten was watching gay porn. It was slightly arousing, but then again, most porn was, so he didn't read much into that. The only guy he'd ever found himself attracted to was this blond that had been a friend of one of their old housemates. He'd been over at their house one time when Harry and Ron came back from classes, and those piercing grey eyes had made Harry's heart beat so fast that he had even forgotten to say hello. He still had no idea who that was. He knew he studied in the same university, but he wasn't sure if he even wanted to find him. What would he say to him anyway? It was all quite silly.

Something silly that he thought about quite often, even though it had already been more than seven months.


End file.
